Great Expectations eBook

“And couldn’t she ask Uncle Pumblechook
if he knew of a boy to go and play there? Isn’t
it just barely possible that Uncle Pumblechook may
be a tenant of hers, and that he may sometimes —
we won’t say quarterly or half-yearly, for that
would be requiring too much of you — but sometimes
— go there to pay his rent? And couldn’t
she then ask Uncle Pumblechook if he knew of a boy
to go and play there? And couldn’t Uncle
Pumblechook, being always considerate and thoughtful
for us — though you may not think it, Joseph,”
in a tone of the deepest reproach, as if he were the
most callous of nephews, “then mention this
boy, standing Prancing here” - which I solemnly
declare I was not doing — “that I have
for ever been a willing slave to?”

“No, Joseph,” said my sister, still in
a reproachful manner, while Joe apologetically drew
the back of his hand across and across his nose, “you
do not yet — though you may not think it —
know the case. You may consider that you do,
but you do not, Joseph. For you do not know
that Uncle Pumblechook, being sensible that for anything
we can tell, this boy’s fortune may be made by
his going to Miss Havisham’s, has offered to
take him into town to-night in his own chaise-cart,
and to keep him to-night, and to take him with his
own hands to Miss Havisham’s to-morrow morning.
And Lor-a-mussy me!” cried my sister, casting
off her bonnet in sudden desperation, “here
I stand talking to mere Mooncalfs, with Uncle Pumblechook
waiting, and the mare catching cold at the door, and
the boy grimed with crock and dirt from the hair of
his head to the sole of his foot!”

With that, she pounced upon me, like an eagle on a
lamb, and my face was squeezed into wooden bowls in
sinks, and my head was put under taps of water-butts,
and I was soaped, and kneaded, and towelled, and thumped,
and harrowed, and rasped, until I really was quite
beside myself. (I may here remark that I suppose myself
to be better acquainted than any living authority,
with the ridgy effect of a wedding-ring, passing unsympathetically
over the human countenance.)

When my ablutions were completed, I was put into clean
linen of the stiffest character, like a young penitent
into sackcloth, and was trussed up in my tightest
and fearfullest suit. I was then delivered over
to Mr. Pumblechook, who formally received me as if
he were the Sheriff, and who let off upon me the speech
that I knew he had been dying to make all along:
“Boy, be for ever grateful to all friends,
but especially unto them which brought you up by hand!”

“Good-bye, Joe!”

“God bless you, Pip, old chap!”

I had never parted from him before, and what with
my feelings and what with soap-suds, I could at first
see no stars from the chaise-cart. But they
twinkled out one by one, without throwing any light
on the questions why on earth I was going to play at
Miss Havisham’s, and what on earth I was expected
to play at.